The House on Hummingbird Road
by Morggy
Summary: REPOSTED. No longer a One-Shot. First chapter takes place before season 4. Chapter two takes place after season 5. The story of how Eric buys Sookie house and then the story of how he returns it to her. Review please.
1. Chapter 1

**The House on Hummingbird Road**

**xoxoxox**

REPOSTING – I thought I´d lost this one in the void – found it in backup today. Hooray.

Just needed an excuse to write Eric – the story of how he bought Sookie's house.

Thanks Kim for beta work.

**xoxoxox**

The warning signs were all there: the restlessness - the way they wouldn't stop looking at each other across the bar – the wide-eyed expressions that no makeup or getup in the world could disguise, the nervous looks towards the doorway, the conspicuous manner in which they spoke into their poorly hidden microphones. Steve Newlin's groupies were becoming an attraction as common as the vampires dancing in his bar. But most of them kept their business to the outside, carrying their signs and chanting relentlessly at Fangtasia's esteemed clientele. But these two, well, these two were a bit more daring – or so they thought.

"Are you waiting for one of them to yank out a wooden cross and start sprinkling holy water at us before you do something?" Pam asked Eric as she leaned casually against the back of his chair upon the dais.

"That would be a sight, wouldn't it?" Eric asked back with a slight sneer to his lips.

They watched the pair openly. One short and stocky, with a fake lip-piercing and eye-liner – he stood by the bar nearest to them. The other was skinny, slightly taller, and would have blended in better if not by his obvious behavior. The shorter one noticed them staring and quickly moved to mingle in the far corner of the bar where a small crowd of leather-clad fangbangers surrounded one of the dancers working the pole.

Pam snorted beside him and Eric shook his head minimally, turning to watch the crowd that had just walked into the bar. These were harmless, their usual visitors.

"Do you think they're up to something?" Pam asked after another quiet moment.

"Scouts, Pam – there's nothing harmful they wouldn't be stripped of upon entrance."

"Pity we didn't catch the microphones," she pointed out.

Eric grunted in response. He was about to turn his attention back to his phone when he caught sight of a familiar face striding inside after a group of tourists. The man wore a navy blue suit and a red tie. What little hair he had on his head was plastered to his scalp with too much gel. It seemed like his night was finally going to get interesting.

"Pam, show Mr. Brown to my office, please."

Eric watched as she escorted him away from the crowd. He then beckoned the nearest vampire dancer with his finger and she moved to stand by him.

"Do you see that nervous little gentleman over there, Danielle?"

Danielle, one of the vampires on his payroll, followed his gaze and nodded, arching an eyebrow with curiosity.

"He's a Fellowship of the Sun spy, as is that other fidgety gentleman by the restrooms. Will you show them a good time?" Eric asked innocently.

Danielle smirked and shook her head as she started to move. Eric watched with contained interest as the vampire entertainer slid her skilled hands around the stocky man's shoulders, causing him to jump in surprise. Eric grinned as the man started to shake visibly under her unexpected attentions. Eric pushed off his chair and made it towards his office, just as Pam walked out, shooting him an inquisitive look – she knew who the man was, she just didn't know why he had requested his services.

"Keep an eye on things for me."

Inside the office, Peter Brown rose quickly from his chair as Eric entered, his head bowed , watching him as he walked around his desk to take his seat.

"Mr. Northman, I have brought your papers."

Eric leaned back in his chair and watched as the man laid a folder on his desk and then reached inside his jacket pocket.

"Everything went smoothly. The seller promptly accepted your offer and I have everything ready." He produced a set of keys from his pocket and put it on top of the yellow folder. "The house on Hummingbird Road is yours." He paused, watching as Eric pulled the folder across the desk towards him. "The seller made no objection to your request that the furniture and decorative objects be part of the sale. He only asked that he be able to retrieve his sister's personal belongings."

"That's fine," Eric said absent mindedly as he ran his eyes over the papers inside the folder.

Brown hesitated, staring at his vampire boss. "If I might say, sir, the house is really in terrible condition. I can get a crew to get rid of everything by tomorrow…"

"That is not necessary," Eric interrupted him, annoyed. "I'll deal with this personally from now on. Thank you for your service. You may go."

Nodding, Brown quietly left.

Eric swept the keys into his hand and contemplated them as a devious smile formed on his lips. Such a strange victory to hold the keys to her house. _His_ house now. That had been an unexpected but welcome development in the wake of months of waiting. He would take what he could he get.

Jason Stackhouse really was the weakest in the litter. Had the situation been reversed, he had no doubt Sookie wouldn't stop looking for her brother until the day she died. But he couldn't really condemn the boy for his lack of backbone when it served him so well.

As eager as she had been to remove him from her life when they last spoke months before, she would _have_ to deal with him now. She wouldn't' t be happy about it – but he could endure that. He was nothing if not patient, and persistent.

"You bought her house?" Pam asked from the doorway with her hands on her hips.

Eric looked up from the keys in his hand to his delightful progeny. She had that gleeful look she had when something tickled her tongue. He raised an eyebrow, resting the keys on his desk.

"Something you want to say, Pam?"

Pam hesitated, narrowing her eyes in consideration. Finally she shook her head and straightened herself up. "Danielle scared those two away. It was entertaining… pity you missed it." With that, she turned around and walked away.

Eric chuckled, shaking his head as he pushed off his chair, taking the keys with him.

**xoxoxox**

The house had looked bad the night she disappeared – but now it looked like the kind of house kids rode by on their bikes and threw eggs at while sharing stories of ghosts and gruesome murderers. Now that he thought about it, maybe the kids of Bon Temps _did_ have those stories already – fascinating tales of the mind-reading woman who meddled with the undead and simply disappeared one night. "_They drained her and buried her under the house_!" they'd say.

He knew the stories the _adults_ had come up with. He remembered very well receiving a visit from Renard Parish's finest to enquire after "his entanglements with Miss Stackhouse". Of course their prime suspect had been Bill Compton – and His Majesty (he still laughed inside when he thought about it) had been quick to point them in his direction. Eric suspected that at first, Bill had genuinely thought he had something to do with Sookie going missing.

Sadly, he hadn't. He had been just as perplexed as his former underling when the comfortable warmth of her frail bond to him dissolved into nothing, leaving an empty space similar to, but not exactly like the one left by Godric's drastic departure. There had been no warning sign, no danger, no vibration – one minute it was there and the next it wasn't.

His first thought had been that Sookie had met a quick death. But then things just didn't add up. There had been no blood, no unfamiliar scents around her property. And no smell of fear – a pungent scent that could stick for days after a violent encounter. There had been, however, a very strange, very intoxicating atmosphere in the graveyard – the place where her scent disappeared. It faded rapidly just as he stood there, puzzled. But it had been unmistakable – like her sweet scent, tenfold. He knew then she was alive, even if out of reach.

So he had never stopped waiting. And while he couldn't think of one good reason why he even cared – he did. Boy did he care. The memory of her wouldn't leave him. Bond or no bond she was under his skin. He'd given up trying to fight it. He'd given up trying to pin the blame of it all in her unusual heritage too. For months there hadn't been a trace of her around to hold him hostage. Yet he carried on wanting her just as bad as before, if not more. So he started devising ways to make sure she couldn't ignore him when she came back. Because she _would_ come back. Sookie Stackhouse was nothing if not resilient – and one who valued her roots.

That was why he found himself in front of her now seemingly haunted house with the keys in his hand . When had he ever run from a challenge? Even if it was one as mundane as repair and decor. He snorted as he climbed the steps to the porch and inserted the key in the lock.

Inside the smell was… interesting. Obviously Jason Stackhouse's housekeeping skills were lacking. Eric had never taken a full tour of the house before. He took his time looking in every room, cataloguing what needed fixing and what needed preserving. He was aware ownership of the home had passed to Sookie only recently, having belonged to her grandmother. Because of that, everything looked and felt like _nice old lady_. But he had the feeling Sookie would preserve a lot of it out of love and respect for her grandmother. That much he had been able to ascertain from his long conversations with his…s_ource_.

Her bedroom was the only room that felt younger - and it still smelled faintly of her. He registered with annoyance the way he felt inside as he inhaled it – he recognized the feeling he so despised… he _missed_ her. The sudden ghost sensations of her warm, wet lips parting under his and her small, soft body crushed against his, months ago in his office, returned to him, haunting him more vividly here in her bedroom than ever before. And he enjoyed recalling that night – he enjoyed telling himself she _had kissed him back_. Yet here, in _her_ territory, the assault of those memories were like a giant ominous sign – he wanted her first, and _he_ was at _her_ mercy.

He could hear Pam's delighted giggling in his mind. His child could be very cruel when she wanted. But she had been mostly tactful where Sookie was concerned. She had sometimes shared her thoughts and sometimes spared him. She had asked him why she was writing a check to one Terry Bellefleur of Bon Temps two weeks ago. He'd told her he had had the war vet and part time cook on his payroll since the night after Sookie first set foot in Fangtasia. He had been an useful insider – and easy to persuade. She gaped momentarily before stuffing the check in her purse; adding she _had_ wondered how he knew so much about her and her involvement with Compton. Then she left, probably storing that information away for teasing at most opportune moments.

That last check was a bonus – Terry Bellefleur had told him Jason Stackhouse was selling his sister's house. While the man had been initially glamoured into helping Eric, Terry knew he was receiving payment for some sort of service – but he could never quite clearly remember what it was he had been doing. The man's mind was already hazy and troubled enough that he would not question himself too much about the regular payments from a contracting firm in Shreveport.

Now thanks to Mr. Bellefleur, he had been able to save Sookie's house from being sold to someone else. She'd be heartbroken if she lost her grandmother's precious house – Terry Bellefleur had assured him. _She's a sweet girl that Sookie. Ain't nobody convincing me otherwise. So she's a little strange… hell, so am I. Jason's a good boy. He's in pain, but he has no business selling that house – it would kill poor Sookie if she weren't already dead!_

He would keep her house for her – restore it to its former Southern glory, which according to Terry Bellefleur she had been meaning to do since after the Maenad was destroyed. Her pride would be wounded, and she would be mad at him, but only until he convinced her to be his. She had no relationship with Compton anymore, and she _had_ feelings for him whether she admitted to them or not. Eric wasn't human – what he remembered of human courtship was outdated by a thousand years – and Sookie was by no means like the women he was normally surrounded with, but he was convinced he got her – he knew her, and so he would win her.

He was distracted by a sound downstairs and shifted. Mentally chastising himself for being so distracted he never heard any cars approaching. It was the brother. Eric heard him open the front door and shuffle inside. Eric looked to a corner of the bedroom and saw a pile of cardboard boxes with different labels on them: clothes, bath, photographs... The boy had come for his sister's personal things. Eric couldn't risk Jason taking her personal effects and possibly disposing of them later. Another matter of chance – that was possibly working in his favor.

Eric turned and walked out of the bedroom coming to a stop at the top of the stairs just as Jason Stackhouse , whistling absent-mindedly, began climbing them. He stopped on the curve of the staircase, his lips poised for whistling but no more sound came from them . He looked at the tall, pale man towering above him and a mix of different expressions crossed his face; so obvious Eric thought it comical. First surprise, then realization of _what_ he was to the recognition of _who_ he was and then, finally, wariness. He tentatively reached for his holster as he stared at the Viking Vampire. Eric simply gave him an amused look, looking from Jason's eyes to his hand resting on his holster.

The fact he was in a cop uniform was amusing. He'd known this of course – even though Jason had not been with Sheriff Andy Bellefleur when he'd dropped by to question him, for obvious reasons. How had the world changed in the last year…

"Deputy Stackhouse," Eric grinned, his voice dripping with amusement.

"What are you doing here?" Jason asked him, keeping his hand on his holster, however useless he knew that to be against a vampire.

Eric watched as a new set of interesting expressions crossed the young man's face. He didn't have to be a telepath to know what he was thinking. _Maybe he had done away with his sister? Maybe he was here for something of hers or to remove her corpse from the property?_ For a few minutes, this could actually be entertaining, Eric mused.

"What are _you_ doing here? This is my house." Eric said calmly. Of course, he intended the boy to forget ever having this conversation before he stepped out of the house.

Jason frowned, his hands dropping to his sides. "_Your…_ you…" he looked around him. "Why the hell would you want this house?"

"I want many things," Eric shrugged. "Most of them would surprise you."

Jason seemed to have reached a bump he couldn't get past. The absurdity of the situation was too much for his simple mind.

"You are here for your sister's things, I assume?" Eric offered gently, throwing his hands behind his back and starting down the stairs, forcing Jason to step back and down as he did so. "I saw the boxes upstairs."

"Uh… yeah… I am." Jason said as he warily stepped down the stairs backwards. "So, if you'll allow me to go up and make sure I got everything, I'll get out of your hair in a minute."

Eric fixed his gaze on Jason's eyes and the boy's pupils dilated immediately as he swallowed once, falling under his influence quickly. "You meant to drop by the house on your way back to get your sister's personal things."

Jason nodded even in his trance. "I did."

"But you couldn't," Eric continued. "There was no time. You've been too busy."

"I… I have been busy," Jason said, staring obediently into the vampire's eyes.

Eric titled his head slightly, curiosity tickling him. "Why are you not like your sister?"

Jason blinked. "Not like my sister?"

"Yes," Eric narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to get a whiff of him. "There's some resemblance. But the scent is not quite the same. Are you sure you have the same parents?"

Jason frowned even in his trance-state. "Of course we do! What you insinuating?"

Eric pulled back slightly, regarding him curiously. There was definitely something strange about the way the fae passed on their heritage. "Why did you give up on her?" he changed the subject, knowing he would get no more than that out of him.

Jason's glazed eyes actually teared up at this. "I couldn't take it anymore. She was all I had."

"Why are you so certain she's dead?" Eric asked. He sometimes wondered if he should be thinking that too – maybe her brother could convince him of it, and drag him out of his unrelenting certainty of the opposite.

"Because Sookie would _never_ just up and leave like that. It's not who she is. She loved this house – and her friends and her family. She would never do this to me, or Tara or any of the other people who cared about her. She would never leave us with no word out of her own free will…" his voice faded now. "She had to have been forced… she can only be dead."

She would never leave them with no word out of her own free will. Eric mulled that over. It rang true with what he knew of her. She was loyal to the people she cared about. Yet, there had been no signs of violence – only the overwhelming scent of the otherworldly. The memory of it almost caused his fangs to run down with bloodlust. More than one fairy had been in the cemetery that night. Jason's conviction that she had not simply left them only further cemented his suspicions that Sookie was in their world no longer.

"You're wrong," Eric said at last with sigh.

"I am?" Jason smiled.

Eric rolled his eyes before fixing them on Jason again. "You did not see me here, you did not come here, you drove straight home. You will _never_ find the time to drop by and pick up Sookie's things, you're a busy, busy man."

"I am," Jason nodded obediently.

"Go," Eric jerked his head towards the front door and watched as Jason passed a balding short man in grey overalls who had just reached the top stair of the porch. He turned to give Jason a curious look, then he stepped forward and bowed his head to Eric.

"Mr. Northman," He looked around the living room, already taking in the damage. "So this is the house you want my crew to fix?"

"Yes," Eric reached for his phone as it buzzed in his pocket. "Go around and make your assessments. Tomorrow night we'll discuss my plans for improvement."

"Yes, sir," the man said stepping in with his clipboard, pen and measuring tape in hand.

"Pam?" Eric said into his phone.

"_You have been summoned by the King, Eric._" Pam's voice dripped with disgust. "_All sheriffs are expected later tonight. I thought you'd like to know since you're in the vicinity._"

""Thank you, Pam. I will need you to close Fangtasia for me tonight."

"_Yes I guess so._"

"I will see you tomorrow if I don't call you later."

"_Eric…_" there was a tentative tone in his child's voice. "_What if she really is dead? All your troubles will be for nothing_."

"She's not," Eric said simply, not letting himself get annoyed – she knew Pam worried for him – she feared him changing – at times he did too. "Do not say this again."

"_You really do care about her, don't you?_" there was surprise, but also acceptance in her voice.

"Pam…" he didn't want to talk about _feelings_, least of all with Pam. "I'll call you later."

He put the phone away as his contractor shuffled back into the room. "Ah, Mr. Northman, I think I've found the perfect spot for your underground safe room."

Eric followed him through the house – casting aside all confusing thoughts and questions for later.

**xoxoxox**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** This little story belongs here because it is still about Sookie's house. It was supposed to be a one shot, but when they mentioned the deeds to the house in the season finale for season 5 I knew I had to write this. The story of how Eric returns Sookie's house – well my take on it.

Rated for mature themes, but nothing awfully descriptive. No beta.

**xoxoxoxoxo**

Darkness descended on the small town of Bon Temps, Louisiana. The night now felt even darker, thicker, and an unusual chill ruffled the high grass and the tops of the trees surrounding the house on Hummingbird Road. Something in the fabric of time and space had shifted - the supernatural beings could feel it in their bones and even the most aloof of humans couldn't deny there was something different in the air. All over the earth, civilizations braced for a terrible war - but here, in the large clearing where the house of the Stackhouses stood, an unusual quietude reigned supreme.

A lone werewolf paced the front of the house, his boots crunching the new gravel beneath his soles. He was larger than he was tall and he had curly sand-blonde hair and a square chin peppered by stubble. He felt disquieted, which was why he paced - there was something wrong about that peace. His name was Tray Dawson and he was a deserter from the Shreveport pack - he was hired muscle now, to the vampire Eric Northman.

He had been surprised when he heard from the vampire - he knew Northman wasn't a fan of werewolves - most vampires weren't. Werewolves were beneath them, they claimed. The only time he had ever gotten involved with wolves before was with the Herveauxes - father and son, something about a debt. But desperate times called for desperate measures, he guessed. Hell it was mutual as far as he was concerned - he was no fan of fangers which was why he left when J.D. started spewing nonsense about swearing fealty to some powerful vamp that was going to give them his blood. No. If Tray Dawson was ever going to obey a vamp, it was for good, old, reliable money - which was why he took the job.

He was told to guard the house and protect the woman inside until he returned at nightfall. So he'd guarded her all day, keeping to himself and refusing to go inside when she offered him food and iced tea. He took his meals on the porch steps and accepted her several offerings of lemonade, but nothing else. He was curious as to why this human was so important to the vamp. Vampires though the humans beneath them as well and lately their consideration for their lives had decreased even more. He was happy vampires didn't like werewolf blood. But the girl didn't have bite marks on her and she didn't smell of vampire. She did smell different though, and there was a gleam to her - he felt an inexplicable pull towards her - which he suppressed, of course. The last thing he wanted was to be caught flirting with the vamper's human, if that was even what she was.

As soon as the sun started to set, Tray had told her to lock all her doors and stay inside. It was when he started feeling weird. Something strange hung in the air and he could swear he'd heard crackling noises, like short circuits coming from the forest. There was someone more than him watching the girl...

He caught on the vampire's quick approach with his hearing and he stared at the sky just in time to see the black shape zooming in towards him like a bullet. He landed with a thud, not five feet from him, the gravel around him rolling sideways and a dust cloud rose and fell at his feet. The vampire stood - his eyes on the house behind Tray Dawson. The wolf could see his nostrils flaring, he was sniffing for enemies. His cool blue eyes finally settled on him and Dawson nodded at the tall vampire.

"Right on time."

"Nothing unusual, I hope?" the vampire asked smoothly, his voice nearly a whisper.

"Well..." Tray Dawson scanned the tree line behind the vampire uncomfortably. "Not hostile unusual... but there's something strange out there."

The vampire nodded and now he seemed to be trying not to inhale. "Yes indeed. Well I see you tomorrow Mr. Dawson."

"Right." the werewolf said nothing else and walked past the vampire to enter the forest. He'd hidden his truck in the woods. "Night!" he called as he disappeared into the night.

The vampire stood alone now and he walked up the gravel path towards her front door. Her pain was more prominent now - a dull constant ache that he too couldn't part with. Not because it was his, but because it was hers and he couldn't block her out - not that he would if he could. He just wished he could take it away. He still couldn't understand why he couldn't feel her, or even Pam when he was under the witch's spell – his blood had forgotten too it appeared. But now she was back and he took comfort in being able to hear her heart beat even now, and feel her if he could have nothing else from her.

Sookie opened the door as soon as he touched the first step on the porch and she watched him with disbelieving eyes as he ascended and came to a stop before her threshold. She took in all of him as she grabbed at her door.

"You came!" she couldn't hide her surprise and her relief.

The other vampire she loved had abandoned her in a very permanent manner only two days ago - he could understand that she would expect him to do the same. But that was because Sookie never fully saw him, never understood the depth of his feelings for her. If she did, she wouldn't have doubted him for a second. But he had decided to stop being angry about it. He would just have to show her, again, and how many other times he had to.

She blinked at him as he just stood there watching her, a questioning look replacing her relief. He finally moved, looking at the doorway between them, feeling the magic barrier that separated them.

"You'll have to invite me in," he told her.

Her watery eyes blinked at him and understanding settled in and she breathed. "Eric, please come in."

She stepped back as Eric walked inside, their eyes on each other the whole time. Eric closed the door behind him and reached into his jacket, handing her the papers she had been waiting for. Sookie smiled and took them, running her eyes quickly over the deeds to the house.

"Thank you," Sookie said, finally returning her eyes to him. "This is more than just my safety. This house means much to me."

"I know," Eric said. "That's why I bought it."

He didn't miss the sad flicker in her eyes or the way she swallowed as the look in her eyes became distant. She had to know, how could she not know? Still it was as if she'd stumbled upon some big revelation and he fought the scowl building behind his stoic lips.

"I'm sorry I can never return you in kind," she chose to say when she looked at him again and when his eyes flashed angrily at her she smiled. "But I want to talk about a payment plan."

Eric rolled his eyes, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he walked past her into the living room. "There will be no payment plan."

"Eric!" Sookie growled behind him. "I won't simply take the house back without paying you for it! It isn't right and I can't accept it if you won't take my money!" she shook the deeds in her hand.

Eric looked at the papers in her hand as if they offended him. "Keep it. You need your protection."

"Fine! I'll talk to my lawyer and…"

"I think we have more important things to talk about than that," he said seriously.

Her disposition to argue disappeared immediately as her shoulders slumped and she looked at the floor between them, nodding. She ran a hand through her tousled hair and walked past him to sit on the couch. He took notice of her state then. She wore a flannel shirt over her Merlotte's t-shirt and jeans, but no shoes and her hair looked messy as if she'd been sleeping or running her fingers through it maniacally. He sat on the armchair across from her and was immediately invaded by cruel, vicious memories. This was the chair where she had taken him inside her and the couch where sat was where she'd first lay beneath him, her glorious tan contrasting against the white of her underwear as he kissed a path down from her mouth to her lace-covered sex. Was there a place in this house where he hadn't taken her? He closed his eyes briefly, reigning himself in – now wasn't time for this.

Sookie was looking at him, eyes wide with unasked questions, hands clasped between her knees as she leaned forward towards him. When he still didn't speak she did. "So… what is he now?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "I never much believed in Lilith and none of that religious bullshit." He leaned forward as well. "Nora doesn't know any better, as it turns out. I hoped she would know more since she was in the cult with Salome and the others but…" he shook his head. "Salome kept most of the knowledge to herself and she is now dead."

Sookie sighed, leaning back slightly. "Is there any sign of him anywhere?"

Eric shook his head. "I've searched from New Orleans to Shreveport and other neighboring areas. He's gone."

Sookie nodded, a mixture of relief and pain crossing her amber eyes. "Whatever he is… he has to be destroyed." It wasn't a question and there was finality to the way she said it.

Eric was surprised she could speak so detachedly about killing her former first love. But then a flutter in the bond told him it wasn't quite so easy – her eyes prickled with tears before she suppressed them. Eric nodded silently and both of them looked away from each other.

Indeed Bill had to be destroyed. Whatever he was now, he wasn't right and shouldn't be. But could he even be destroyed? The idea that he couldn't was unsettling. He refused to believe Lilith had been a deity of any kind – that she had power over his race. She did not – he was proof of it, his progeny was proof of it, and even Nora, who finally tore herself away from her clutches, was proof of it. Whatever she was, she fed on her believers and now Bill had made a sacrifice of himself and she controlled him, or he controlled her. Whatever the relationship between them was, it was clear they had the same agenda – and because of that Bill couldn't live.

"So how do we kill him?" Sookie asked in a near whisper when he remained quiet, lost in thought.

Eric looked up into her eyes again and he saw her hurt, her pain, but also her determination. She wasn't about to let some creature, however powerful it was bring more chaos into her world. She cared too much about what was right, and about people, to let this be. She was warrior in her own right and his chest swelled with pride. She was truly amazing.

"That I don't know," he admitted. "But we will find out."

Sookie nodded, trusting him at his word. "So what do we do now?"

"We go on," Eric said pragmatically. "Like we've always done. We will need allies now more than ever and you will need to very careful. You're a part-fairy who's recently been rubbing up against other fairies and it has magnified your scent – vampires will be even more drawn to you than before."

Sookie's eyes widened at that. "Oh great! Seriously?"

Eric couldn't help but smile at her outrage. "I'm afraid so."

"Oh just fan-fucking-tastic!" she hissed.

"Speaking of your kin," Eric said leaning back against the chair and stretching his senses carefully. "They're watching you as well."

Sookie's head perked up at that. "What do you mean?"

"I can smell them outside, in the woods."

Sookie stood and hurried over to the window, peering into the darkness but seeing nothing. She turned back to stare at Eric sitting calmly on the arm-chair and frowned. "And that doesn't make you the least bit… crazy?"

"Oh, it's taking more than a little degree of control," he said as his eyes swept her from top to bottom. "But I would never harm you, you know that."

Sookie's eyes flickered sadly and he hoped she was also remembering the other time when he said that to her. He wasn't fully himself back then – but any parts of him, however incomplete would always feel the same way about her. She had to know it.

"Do you trust them?" he asked as she turned to the window again.

"I… don't know. To some extent. They were willing to protect me and Jason from vampires, even Russell." She turned to look at him and smile. "But I don't think any of us would have survived him if you hadn't come. Thank you for that."

Eric stood and strode over to stand next to her, peering outside as well. "He won't ever come for you again." He reached over to touch her hair and she smiled. "From him you are safe."

Her smile disappeared and she looked down for a moment before her eyes returned to his curiously. "Jason told me your sister knows who Warlow is."

Eric blinked at her, lost. "Who's Warlow?"

Sookie looked mildly relieved. "So you don't know who he is?"

Eric shook his head. "Why should I? What are you talking about?"

Sookie sighed and turned away from the window going over to sit down again. Eric followed her but remained standing, sensing he was about to hear bad news.

"Warlow is a vampire. He killed my parents, and, apparently, he got an ancestor of mine to sign a contract promising him his first fae-bearing female heir," Sookie rolled her eyes. "Who turned out to be me."

Eric's eyes narrowed. "A contract?"

Sookie nodded. "So… whoever this Warlow is I… I… belong to him." The words were disgusting to her mouth.

They disgusted Eric too – and he was instantly filled with the desire to kill – his fangs threatened to descend. He looked at his little fairy with possessive rage and, for once, she didn't seem scared, but she looked back at him with hope.

"Do vampires do this? Sign… contracts for people? I only ever saw you guys snarling at each other saying _mine_ and crap like that."

"A claim is good enough for vampires," Eric explained and thought for a moment. "The contract must be for your kin's benefit. That they wouldn't contest him when he came to make his claim." Eric looked between them thoughtfully. "Nora knows who this vampire is?"

Sookie shrugged. "Jason said she recognized the name when he mentioned it, but refused to speak about it. Jason has been acting a little weird since the Elder Fairy zapped him so I don't really know what went on between them. But he wants to find this vampire at any cost and he's convinced he can kill him. But this vampire is at least 300 years old, Eric!"

Eric would have to talk to his sister about this Warlow. She had been a bit evasive since the night they escaped and she returned to Fangtasia to die for the day after roaming for hours, helping him look for Bill. But he would have to ask her to stay and talk. She wasn't comfortable with her new life, it was very different from the one she had before, and she had a hard time adjusting to the fact there were other people who deserved his regard. She wasn't fond of Pam or Tara and apart from wanting to eat Sookie she didn't like her either. She had been difficult.

Eric sighed. "I'll talk to her about it," he promised. "Whoever he is, I won't let him take you."

Sookie smiled gratefully, craning her neck up as he stepped closer to her on the couch.

"I understand you love this house and I wouldn't want you to have to leave it. But please, understand, if it becomes necessary I will take you from here until it's safe again." Sookie's smile faded and she nodded understandingly.

Eric crouched in front of her and his sudden proximity sucked the air out of her. He was so close and he smelled so good – something inside her ached and she nearly groaned when he reached to tilt her chin so she would look into his eyes. Why did it have to be so complicated? Why did she have to love two of them? Why could she never be whole so she could give herself to him entirely?

"I will come tomorrow as soon as the sun sets, if I have any news." He told her comfortingly.

Sookie swallowed, suddenly sad that his coming was on the condition he had something important to say. She remembered the days when he had lived with her, slept in his cubby and been there with her at night. The world had been only theirs back then, and it could never be so again. She nodded, attempting a smile.

"Okay."

When it looked like Eric was standing up, Sookie reached out stilling his arm as it brushed across her knee and he stopped, looking at her inquisitively. She reached forward, took the sides of his face into her hands gingerly and brushed her lips across his. It was a tentative, almost fearful gesture, and her eyes were only partially closed – she was afraid he would shove her away. But he didn't. Eric closed his eyes and breathed her in, his lips seeking hers in return. They didn't deepen the kiss but his hands fisted into her hair to keep her close. His eyes opened and he contemplated her rosy lips, so close to his. Her scent was heaven… He wanted her so much…

"Th… thank you… for everything," Sookie whispered against his lips, her eyes closed, her heart clenching.

Eric nodded and, though he moistened his lips in torturous anticipation, he pulled back, his hand sliding from her hair to close around her elegant neck. Sookie opened her eyes and her love for him in them infused him with a cruel hope.

_Not yet._

He caressed her neck softly with his large hand and she smiled. "Don't stay out after sunset."

"I won't."

Eric stood swiftly and forcing himself to tear his eyes away from her strode towards the door purposefully. His hand was twisting the knob when she called to him. He looked back and she was leaning her arm against the back of her couch, looking over her shoulder at him, a determined expression in her dark eyes.

"We're still not done talking about that payment plan."

The smirk on his lips was instant and he held her gaze and nodded once before pulling the door open to step outside. As far as he was concerned, they weren't done talking about many things.

But now was not the time.

**xoxoxoxoxo**

Check "Delirium" a story that I consider a sequel to this one - in the sense it takes place in my TB-fic-verse and in the sense that in that universe, _this_ story happened. Thanks.


	3. Chapter 3

**I couldn't help noticing some people keep hitting "follow" even though this story is marked as complete. I'm flattered that you guys would like more. While this particular story probably will not be revisited (unless something more related to Sookie's house happens in the series to prompt another chapter) I have written a story that I do consider this a prequel to - in the sense that it continues with the mini TB-fic-verse I made up in my mind. So if you would like to have more, please check "****_Delirium_****" - just check my profile and you'll see it. It should be noted it is Rated M, so just check it if that doesn't bother you. Thanks again!**

**I will delete this '3rd chapter' in few days - once I've given it enough time for the 36odd people following this to read this note. Cheerio!**


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